“We’ll be fine. Thanks for calling me.” He unwrapped a candy and passed it to Pia. “How are you feeling?”
“A little sheepish for causing all the fuss,” she said, her voice unsteady. “And I’ll have some bruises tomorrow, but I’m fine.” As long as she didn’t start cramping. She pressed clammy hands to her stomach. “JT, the baby-”
“I’m taking you to Dr. Crosby’s office. I’ll call on the way.”
The relief of having someone take charge when she felt too fragile for the role was immense. “Thank you,” she whispered.
You’ll be fine, little one. Don’t give up.
He supported her weight with an arm around her waist as they walked out the front door and hailed a cab. His lean, muscled form was so strong, so reassuring against her that she melted into him. As soon as they were in, he punched in a number on his cell, explained their situation to the person on the other end, and told them they were on their way.
He hung up, slipped the phone into his pocket and turned to her. “The receptionist says Dr. Crosby was about to leave for her hospital rounds, but she’ll wait till we get there.”
Pia sent up a silent prayer of thanks, and another that her baby would be unharmed. JT sat beside her on the cab’s vinyl backseat, his arm loosely around her shoulders, his face turned to the passing scenery. What was running through his mind? Did he have the same bone-deep terror that she would lose the baby? Did he blame her? She clenched her fists tight and turned away to her own window.
When they reached the medical suites, the receptionist ushered them straight in.
Dr. Crosby was calm and reassuring as she did the examination. Once they were sitting at her desk again with JT, the doctor made some notes, then turned to them.
“I can’t find any signs to indicate a problem. You’re in the first trimester and the baby is well insulated in your womb at the moment, but if you have any spotting or cramping, call me immediately and get to a hospital.”
“Do you think that’s likely?” JT asked, his voice grave, and Pia was glad he’d asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue.
“It’s hard to say,” Dr. Crosby replied. “Occasionally these things surprise me, but I’d say you should be safe because it wasn’t a heavy fall and everything looks fine.”
Pia let out a pent-up breath that felt like every last bit of air in her lungs escaped. Her baby should be fine. She smiled at JT, giddy with relief.
“This might be a good time to discuss your first pregnancy, Pia.” Dr. Crosby laid a hand flat on the desk and her expression grew solemn. “I’ve reviewed your medical records-the trauma you suffered from your fall caused a placental abruption. This means you do have an increased risk of the problem reoccurring-probably about a ten-percent risk. I don’t want you to worry unduly but it is important that you take extra care.”
Any traces of relief Pia had felt vanished as Dr. Crosby’s words slapped her in the face. “Is there anything we can do to keep my…our baby safer?” she whispered.
“Keep up with the suggestions I gave you last time, like having enough fluids. And you need to get plenty of sleep. And because you’ve fainted twice, you might want to put some precautions in place until we see how your blood pressure responds in your second trimester.”
“Precautions?” JT said from beside her. His body stiffened and tension radiated from him.
Dr. Crosby smiled kindly. “Simple things-for instance, when you’re showering, you should make sure the water isn’t too hot, perhaps have a shower stool so you can sit down. Try to take showers when there’s someone else around.”
Her fingers wrapped around each other tightly. She’d lived alone since moving out of her college dorm-how was it possible to have someone around when she showered? She licked dry lips and decided to work that out later. In the meantime, there was another issue. “What about my job?”
“That’s entirely up to you,” Dr. Crosby replied. “It depends on whether you feel safe there. Also, we want you to keep your stress level under control because of the potential effects it could have on your system.” She looked down at her notes. “You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Is it mainly desk work?”
Meetings and appointments off-premises were fairly regular, but she could try to rearrange things to stay in her own office each day. “I can probably make it a desk job for the short term.”
“It should be no riskier than being at home, but it’s hard for me to make that judgment without knowing the details of your schedule. Although something to consider is that your stress will adversely affect the baby, so we want you to be safe and to have you feel safe. You certainly don’t have to stop working, but maybe you could take steps to balance your load. Only you know if the stress you’re under now is too much. But keep in mind that if you have an episode of low blood pressure, you’ll need to feel comfortable about managing that by lying down or at least putting your head down.”
Dr. Crosby’s words replayed in Pia’s mind during the cab ride home. Precautions needed to be put into place, no question, but how many? How much was enough? She desperately wanted the partnership at her firm, but never at the risk of losing another baby.
She laid her head back on the headrest behind her and closed her eyes. Four weeks ago, JT had been a distant memory and the partnership had been the most important thing in her future. Too much had changed too fast.
The cab pulled up in front of her apartment and JT paid the driver and followed her in without invitation. Which pretty much summed up their situation now-JT looking after things and being an unquestioned part of her life. And every time he came here, or they were out together, they ran the risk of being seen, of her career exploding in her face. Everything was spinning out of control, and in the midst of the mess, she had to ensure that keeping emotional distance from JT remained a priority. She would soon be a mother, and needed to keep her head straight, to be the strongest and best version of herself for the baby’s sake. JT and keeping her head straight were not compatible.
He stood before her, dominating her living room, strong hands on his lean hips. “What will you do about your job?”
“Take time off,” she said. She’d turned the elements of the problem over and over on the ride home, looking from all angles, searching for a solution that would suit all her needs. But ultimately-no matter how small the risk her job was to her baby-there was only one plan she could live with. “It’s not just the work but the commute, too.”
He cocked his head to the side, his eyes intent on her face. “I thought this promotion meant the world to you?”
“It did. It does,” she corrected. “But the baby means more. I’ll have some files sent over and can work from home. There’s not that long before the second trimester starts and, if my blood pressure is better, I’ll go back then.”
Warm approval flared in his eyes. “And I’ll be here at night.”
Her heart missed a beat, both at his words and the casual way he delivered them. “What makes you think you’ll be here?”
“Dr. Crosby told us to minimize your time alone. I’ll sleep on the couch and be here while you shower. While I’m at work, you can do safe things. Work on your cases at the table, watch television. Sleep.”
“I won’t be sleeping. I have a full caseload.” She’d have Arthur bring files and notes over straight away and she could log on to the firm’s email server from her laptop. Maybe it wouldn’t need to be classed as time off. Just working from home.
“Sure, as long as they’re things you can do sitting or lying down.”
Was he questioning her commitment to the care of their baby? Her spine straightened. “Have no doubts, JT, I won’t jeopardize this baby.”
He arched a brow. “Then you won’t have a problem with my sleeping on the couch in case you faint again.”
Pia let out a breath. She’d been over and over this on the cab ride, too, and had to face that her options were fairly
limited. She could stay with one of her sisters and her family, or she could stay with her parents. Both options involved moving back to her hometown of Pine Shores -too far from the office to have someone regularly drop off or pick up work.
Or she could accept this offer from her baby’s father-a man who had as much to lose as she did if she fell and didn’t have help. Why even hesitate? There would be minimal disruption to her work, and JT would simply be carrying out fatherly responsibilities. Of course, her work would have a problem with it if they found out, but it shouldn’t be hard to conceal if she was careful.
She looked up at his darkly beautiful profile, into the depths of his dark-fringed eyes, at the small scar above his lip and her pulse began to jump madly.
She almost groaned. This was why she needed to be cautious. Could she resist the sublime lure of him if he slept five paces from her bed? If she rose in the night for a glass of water and saw his face relaxed in sleep, his limbs strewn across her couch? If he emerged from her bathroom with damp skin and her towel wrapped around his waist? How strong was her resistance exactly?
Yet, she couldn’t start an affair with JT. Soon, she’d be a mother, and mothers needed to be sensible. Rational. Prudent. Around JT, she’d never been any of these things. She wasn’t sure any of them were remotely possible when he was near.
And now that they would have an ongoing relationship through their baby, she’d need to be even more careful to keep things on an even keel, to ensure she and JT could sustain a lifelong connection. If they stepped too close to the fire again, could they walk away and remain on pleasant enough terms to share the parenting of their child? The last time they broke up, she’d had to sever things completely. That wouldn’t be an option when they shared custody.
But-her hands crept to her belly-her weakness wasn’t the issue. Her baby needed her to accept the help on offer. Her baby was depending on her to put every possible safety net in place to keep her or him protected.
She swallowed past the resistance in her throat and met his gaze. “You can stay.”
Chapter Seven
Dusk was falling when JT came back. Pia had asked her assistant to bring over her briefcase and laptop-which she’d left on her desk when she’d ducked out for her ill-fated lunch break-plus the case files she was working on…except the Bramson estate.
Linda Adams had appointments all afternoon and Pia hadn’t had a chance to talk to her yet, but now the will was Linda’s responsibility, Pia needed to know how she wanted her to work on it from home. Ethically, she couldn’t have paperwork pertaining to the case in the same apartment where a claimant was staying and could stumble across it, so she’d have to find a solution.
Unfortunately, Arthur hadn’t arrived with her things yet-he’d needed to cover for her in a couple of meetings and said he’d drop them off in the morning.
Home alone with nothing to do, the anxieties raised by the day couldn’t be pushed aside and they preyed on her mind… What if she lost this baby, too? A clammy shiver raced across her skin. If that happened, then she wouldn’t survive either.
And JT staying here? How would she keep up her guard with him on her couch? He was dangerous for her, she’d known that-he brought out the worst in her. With him at her side, she’d always succumbed to reckless abandon, doing things against her own best interests. Within four weeks of his swaggering back into her life, she’d compromised herself at work, fallen pregnant and now had him sleeping in her apartment.
As her brain worked overtime, her fingers had itched for something to do, a contract to read, anything. So, under the gaze of an ever-watchful Winston, she’d found herself pulling out the bags she kept tucked away at the bottom of her wardrobe, and spreading her hat-making materials over the dining table. When JT arrived, she was working on a series of elaborate bronze petals that needed so much concentration that she almost managed to silence her fears.
He walked in with a sports bag, a suit hanger and an expression of determined cheerfulness. Even with the grimly false expression, his face had such masculine beauty that it stole her breath-the full bottom lip, the shadowed jaw, the brown waves falling across his forehead.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. No greeting, no pleasantries.
“I’m fine,” she said, closing the door behind him and scowling. Partly about her reaction to him, but also because of his way of handling the situation. She might be worried about the baby, but JT regularly checking on her would only make her more anxious. “If you’re going to stay here-”
“I am.”
“-then I don’t want you hovering and asking me how I feel all the time.”
The corners of his mouth twitched, but he resisted the grin that lurked. “How would you like me to ascertain your condition?”
She stepped back. “I’ll tell you if there’s something wrong.”
“Another ground rule, Pia?” he drawled, eyes lazily resting on her lips.
Her thoughts strayed to the last time they’d discussed ground rules…and the heated kiss that had followed. Goose bumps erupted across her skin. Dare she start them down that path once more? She folded her arms under her breasts. Things were different now. Neither of them would be that irresponsible or rash again. Would they?
“Yes, it’s a ground rule,” she said, lifting her chin.
He folded his arms over his muscled chest, mirroring her pose. “Then I get to add another one. I won’t ask you how you feel, but you’ll accept the things I do for the health of the woman who’s carrying my baby.”
Their gazes locked for timeless moments in a mini battle of wills until she looked away and sighed. He had as much investment in this pregnancy as she did. He might seem devil-may-care to the rest of the world, but she’d known him when they were teenagers, had seen how excited he’d been about becoming a father. The memory still brought searing tears to her eyes. And she’d witnessed his raw grief only weeks ago when he’d shown her the cross he’d carved.
Her health was the baby’s health for now, so how could she deny his request?
“As long as it’s within reason,” she conceded.
“I’m always reasonable, princess.” He dropped his bag beside the couch, his burgundy tie falling askew with the movement. He held up his suit bag. “Is there somewhere I can hang this?”
She considered suggesting the coat stand beside the door because he’d called her princess again, but that would be unfairly bad-mannered. Now-when she needed to keep distance-was not the time to lose her manners or composure.
She reached for the bag. “I’ll hang it in my closet.”
And so the blurring of boundaries begins, she thought. Although, to be honest, that had started when he’d made love to her under the stars. No, when he’d appeared from her firm’s elevator and started a chain reaction of events, each more disastrous for her than the last.
“I appreciate it,” he said as she walked into her room and hung his clothes among hers. When she came back he was leaning a hip against the dining room table, fingers sampling the texture of a roll of pale cream netting.
He looked up and smiled his crooked smile. “This reminds me of the fabrics and ribbons you used to have strewn across your bedroom.”
A vision of a younger, leaner JT taunted her, of him climbing through her bedroom window and kissing her senseless. Her breaths began to come faster even as she tried to regulate them, and she frowned. Had he mentioned the past on purpose? It seemed he was always throwing her off balance by reminding her of the girl she’d once been, and the boy she’d known then. It was hard enough to deal with the present circumstances without his constant reminders of their past.
She picked up the netting, rerolled it into a tight ball, and spoke over her shoulder. “I’m not that girl, you’re not that boy, you’re not climbing into my bedroom and this is nothing more than a purely practical hobby.”
“That’s right,” he said pokerfaced. “It’s purely practical.”
“They’re expensive to buy an
d I have a difficult head shape to fit. I only make what I need.” Yet today-for the first time-she’d started a hat she didn’t need, and that made her uneasy. She chewed on one side of her bottom lip.
He opened his mouth to reply, but he met her eyes for a long moment, then closed it again before turning away. “I’ll start on dinner if you want to take a shower or something else you need to do while I’m in the apartment.”
She hesitated, bag of millinery supplies in her hand, and watched him drop his jacket on the back of a chair and walk into her kitchen with long strides. “You don’t have to make dinner,” she said. “There’s no health risk in my cooking.”
He shrugged as he opened a cupboard and scanned the contents. “How about we say I’m cooking myself dinner and making extra to share with you.”
She sighed. They were having meals together now. Merrily sharing chores. Long past the concept of blurred boundaries. She hugged the bag of ribbons, velvet and elastic to her chest. While her heart struggled with the changes, her practical side warned not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Thank you,” she said, dropping the bag back on the table and headed for the shower.
It was going to be a long couple of months until her second trimester.
A week later, JT threw down his pen, yawned and stretched at his desk-sleeping on Pia’s couch was a killer on his spine. He had a pile of work in his in-tray, but all he could think about was Pia at home, driving herself crazy with boredom. She’d been doing menial work that other lawyers in the office were sending home on Arthur’s daily courier visits, which obviously wasn’t enough to keep her mind off her anxiety about the pregnancy.
Worse, Dr. Crosby had said Pia’s stress would adversely affect the baby. He’d done some research on the web since then that had confirmed it-he needed Pia to be as relaxed as possible. The only times he’d seen her anywhere near being relaxed was when she created things with ribbon, wire and fabric. She got into a rhythm and her shoulders lost some of their tension.
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